Beauty in the Night
by whiteroses12
Summary: Christine chooses the Phantom instead of Raoul in the final scene. With the entire city searching for the mysterious Phantom of the Opera, can he finally have his happy ending with the woman he loves?
1. Chapter 1

**I've always hated the ending to POTO. Sure it's beautiful and breathtaking but also heartbreaking. This is how I wanted the story to end and what follows after that ending. Erik's past is Kay based, but everything else will be musical based. I know a lot of people write alternate endings, but I want to have my go. Enjoy! Oh and there is no Love Never Dies even though I really enjoyed the show. :)  
**

_**Beauty in the Night**_

**Chapter 1- The Phantom **

Her soft hands cradled my cheeks as she kissed me. Those sweet, luscious lips were locked to mine sending magnificent shivers throughout my body. She stopped the kiss and looked up at me with big, beautiful eyes that looked astounded through the tears. Then she kissed me once more. This time it was deeper and there was more confidence in her lips.

I couldn't believe it. My entire life I had never been kissed by a woman. Even my own mother had refused to kiss me. To feel this love, to feel someone loving me and kissing me this way…it broke me. She pulled away from the kiss, touching her sweet lips. Shock was evident in her features. I took little notice though. I knew that as much as I wanted her to always be by my side, I couldn't force her to do so. My entire life I had never forced a woman to be with me. When I shared intimacy with a woman, I wanted it to be with a woman I loved and that loved me in return .I had turned away slaves offered to me in Persia and denied myself from paying for prostitutes. I did that for women I didn't love. How could I now force my beautiful Christine to be with me…if she didn't want to be?

Slowly, my movements surprising myself, I grabbed a candle off my piano and went to the boy tied up to my gate. I looked to Christine, who was not looking at me. Her graceful fingers were still touching her swollen lips. Her other hand clutched her chest.

The poor boy fought to get away from me as I approached him with the candle. He looked terrified that I would hurt him with it. I looked at Christine once more, who seemed lost in her own thought. Then before I could stop myself, I burned the top of the noose, and Raoul fell to the ground holding his sore neck. Quickly he ran to Christine. I looked at them no longer. Watching them embrace would kill me.

"Take him…leave me," I cried as I dragged my feet away from her. I fell to the ground when I could no longer hold myself up from the sheer agony I felt in my chest. This was the hardest thing I had even done, but I knew it was the right thing. "Forget me…forget all you've seen," I yelled as I crawled my way to my piano, away from the lovers who were surely in a passionate hold right now. "Go now don't let them find you! Take the boat swear to me never to tell…the secret you know of the angel in hell!"

I did not hear them I was so devoured from my grief. I thought surely the pain within my body would cause me to die right here and now. God had never been kind to me, but even he could not be cruel enough to let me live so much longer with the pain that I felt right now. There were no words to describe it. There was a soft touch on my hand. I looked up to see Christine standing there with her big wide eyes filled with the grief I had caused her. "Go now and leave me!" I begged her. Why was she prolonging this torture? Raoul was a few feet behind her. He looked confused as to what she was doing. I was confused too.

She looked upon her hands as she played with the ring I had placed upon her finger only minutes ago. Then she turned up to me with big eyes. "But I don't want to," she murmured.

My brow furrowed along with that of the young Viscount. "What?" I gasped, astonished.

She looked to Raoul who couldn't seem to believe what she had just said. Then she turned back to me. "I don't want to leave you," she said again.

"Christine there isn't much time," Raoul pleaded behind her. He went to grab her hand, but she pulled away from him and took as step closer to me.

"I'm staying with him Raoul," she told him sternly. She knelt down beside me and grabbed my hand tightly. To say I was shocked would have been an understatement.

"Christine?" I whispered wearily. She turned to me and placed her soft hand on my distorted cheek.

"I'm not leaving you…not ever," she told me again.

"Christine you can't be serious?" Raoul said.

"Go Raoul…I thank you for trying to save me, but I didn't need to be rescued," she responded.

"You're choosing him…after all he's done?" Raoul looked astounded, hurt.

Christine nodded. "I can't go with you Raoul. I just can't." She held my hand tighter. I was still in too much shock to say anything.

"Christine!" Raoul implored. He came to her and held her cheeks with both his hands and kissed her. Christine let go of my hand looking furious. She pushed him away.

"No Raoul. I love you…a part of me will always love you, but if I choose to leave with you it would be a…a mistake."

"But…Christine," he cried, clearly hurt.

Christine grabbed my hand again and helped me up. When I was standing on my own two feet she cupped my cheeks with her hands and kissed me once more. This time it wasn't a desperate plea and there was no surprise in her kiss; there was just a needing passion. "My angel," she smiled when our lips parted.

"Do you really mean it Christine?" I asked incredulously. I took her hands in mine and held the soft skin to my distorted face.

She nodded with a smile and kissed me once more. "With all my heart," she replied.

I couldn't believe it; the only woman I ever loved, the only woman that I would give my life for had chosen to be with me. I had given her the choice to leave, but yet here she was wanting to stay…with me. The echoes of the descending mob filled my lair. "We have to go," she cried. "They can't find you. They'll kill you if they do."

I was too in shock. My hands played in her dark curls as if they were the sweetest substance known to man. I was in a beautiful daze. This woman was mine…and she wanted to be. She grabbed my trembling hands and kissed them. "My angel…we have to go," she said one more time.

The sound of water splashing snapped me out of my trance. "Right," I said. I grabbed her hand and pulled her into the room that housed my coffin. Raoul was a wreck on the floor, but we scurried past him as if he were not there. From within a drawer I withdrew a small bag I had prepared for just such an occasion. It had papers in it and enough money to go wherever we needed to go. When I had created this bag, I had done so with the assumption I would be traveling alone. To have Christine with me would make things so much more difficult but also so much more glorious.

I grabbed a cloak as well and then quickly led Christine to a hidden door beneath my throne of a chair. She descended the ladder quickly with my help. I swiftly followed her into the dark hallway beneath. The last I saw of Raoul, he was still on his knees sobbing.

Christine waited at the bottom as I descended the ladder. She kissed me once more as soon as my feet touched the ground. The tunnel we were in was dark and wet. The sound of dripping water echoed all around us. It was also dreadfully cold. Instinctively, I placed my cloak over Christine's shoulders. She held it close.

"Won't you be cold?" she asked, worried.

"I'm used to it my dear," I assured. I then grabbed a lantern I had placed down here ages ago and quickly lit it. When I brought it upon Christine's lovely face she was smiling. Her pale cheeks had turned a rosy red again. I was helpless to resist the urge to smile too. There may have been a mob above us that wanted my head, but I had the love of my life with me. "Come," I whispered as I took her hand in mine and led her through the tunnel.

She held my hand tightly and followed. As we made our way further down the tunnel I could hear the sounds of the mob behind us. Surely the Viscount had told them where we went. I figured they wouldn't be far behind. The tunnels turned into a maze though. It was a maze I knew all too well because I had been the one to create it.

"They sound like they're getting closer," Christine said with terror apparent in her tone.

"Don't worry my love. They won't find us. This is my domain," I assured. She said nothing but held my hand tighter.

We turned another corner when I was suddenly greeted with a face I hadn't expected on seeing. It was the daughter of Madame Giry, Meg. She tried to scream when she saw me, but I quickly covered her mouth before she could give away our position. She dropped her own lantern to the ground and it shattered on the floor beside us. The sound traveled through the silent stone tunnels ominously.

I cringed. Meg shook beneath my grasp, but she did not struggle. "Do you promise not to scream?" I whispered coolly.

She nodded with wide blue eyes, and I removed my hand from her mouth. "Christine!" she cried with a low voice. She looked down to notice Christine's and my hand firmly grasped in one another's. Her eyes went to Christine for some kind of explanation.

Christine shrugged and turned to me. "The heart wants what the heart wants," she explained simply before kissing me lightly to confirm her words with action.

Meg looked surprised, but a determined look soon came over her face. "I'll distract them," she said. "Mostly everyone's come down to look for you, but there are still a few guards at the street level," she warned.

I nodded. Little Giry was a helpful as her mother had been through the years. I was hesitant on trusting her, but I had seen her with Christine over the years. They truly cared about each other. "Thank you Meg," Christine said. She gave her friend one last hug. Meg then ran behind us to distract the approaching mob.

I continued leading Christine through the tunnels until we reached a barred gate at the end that led to an alleyway. I quickly retrieved a key from my bag and opened the gate. We were a couple of blocks away from the Populaire when we came into view of the beautiful night sky. The moon shone brightly above us along with its army of beautiful, glistening stars.

The streets were mostly deserted. Everyone had run closer to the Populaire to see what all the commotion was about. I held my hand to my unmasked face. I had brought an extra mask but did I dare wear it? Which would draw more attention, the white mask of the Phantom of the Opera or my distorted, hideous face? Christine grabbed my hand from my face and looked up to me with a knowing smile. She removed the cloak and put it around my shoulders. She brought up the hood to cover my face as if knowing exactly what I had been thinking.

She looked down. "Perhaps it's best if we separate?" she suggested sadly, holding my hand as if it were a lifeline. "They'll be looking for the both of us."

"No…never," I replied quickly. There was no thinking about this. "I fought for you all this time. I'll be damned if I'm going to lose you ever again." I kissed her once more, savoring the feeling of her lips on mine.

"I don't want to leave you either…," she said. "But where do we go from here?"

"I'm not sure. I know one thing we need to get as far away from here as possible. We'll take the side streets. Once we're a few miles away from the opera maybe we can find a hotel room for the night," I said thinking aloud. I couldn't be seen anywhere. I would have to sneak anywhere we went until we got out of France. "It's not going to be easy Christine," I warned as we made our way out of the alley. I held my cloak close to my disfigured cheek, and in my other hand I held Christine.

"I know," she said, "but I want to be with you more than I ever wanted anything else."

Oh how her words warmed my cold heart. I wanted this to end well, but I knew how rare it was for a monster to have a happy ending. God had played cruel tricks on me before. What did he have up his sleeve now?

A black carriage shot in front of us as we turned another corner. A dark haired man with a top hat looked nervously down upon us. He said nothing though. The carriage door opened to reveal Antoinette Giry. She looked from me to Christine who held me close. "You better get in," she ordered.

I quickly helped Christine into the carriage before placing my foot on the stair to climb in after her. Suddenly there was a loud noise. Then a tense pain erupted in my shoulder. Christine screamed. Madame Giry pulled me inside the carriage before I lost my balance and fell to the ground outside. Before she slammed the door shut, I saw the Viscount standing a small distance away with a smoking revolver still held in his outstretched arm.

When the carriage started moving, I held my hand to my throbbing shoulder. Dark blood covered my fingers. Christine held my head to her shoulder. She was sobbing. Madame Giry ripped a piece of cloth from Christine's dress and held it to my bleeding shoulder. The feeling of her touch made the area erupt in a scorching sting. I held Christine close to withstand the pain.

She was crying into my hair. I could feel her tears. My sweet angel was crying for my safety. "Is he going to be alright?" she demanded.

Madame Giry looked determined. "We need to get him somewhere safe," she answered.

I was vaguely aware of the rest of the ride as rode into the dark Paris night unsure of where the next day might leave us.

**Please review! Sorry about an early cliffhanger. :p **


	2. Chapter 2

**Christine **

Madame Giry brought us to a dark, abandoned home after what seemed like forever in the carriage. The Phantom was losing consciousness as Madame Giry helped us into the building. He was losing so much blood! I had never seen so much blood. I was surprised to see that the driver of the carriage seemed more than willing to help us. He seemed nervous though as he took one of the Phantom's arms and practically carried him the entire way.

The building was cold and dusty. All the furniture was covered with dirty white cloths. Overall, it appeared to be nice and in decent shape considering it was obviously abandoned. Madame Giry quickly removed a cloth from a piece of furniture to reveal a crimson red couch. She then scurried to the fireplace across the room and began to the process of lighting a fire. She handed me a box of matches.

"Lay him down," she ordered the driver. "Light some candles." The driver gently placed the Phantom on the couch. He was now barely conscious. I did what she ordered as well and lit some of the waxy candles surrounding the area. It didn't take long for Madame Giry to get a fire going. In a few moments the room was illuminated with a bright orange glow. "Light as many as you can," Madame Giry demanded. "We're going to need all the light we can to help him."

She went to the Phantom's side. She gently turned him over and began removing his clothing to see the wound. Blood was everywhere. I cringed when I saw his skeletal form, pale from the blood loss. His back had a small bullet hole on his shoulder. It was strange how a wound so small could bleed so much.

"Christine dear could you please get some water and towels. The kitchen is just through there." Madame Giry nodded toward a hallway. I stood there in shock for a moment. "Christine hurry!"

The desperateness in her voice snapped me out of my daze. I grabbed a candle and ran down the dark hallway and soon found a rather grand kitchen. I had no idea where to look for the towels or a bowl to carry the water. Desperately, I searched through every drawer and cabinet. I found the towels in a bottom drawer. There was a large bowl on the table covered in dust. Swiftly, I cleaned it out and filled it with water. When I returned to Madame Giry she was cleaning some sort of pliers with a bottle of whiskey.

The pliers were huge. What could she possibly want to do with them? I ran to her side and placed down the items. "What can I do to help?" I asked.

She said nothing as she cleaned her instrument thoroughly. My attention went to the Phantom; he was very still but appeared to be breathing steadily. I held his hand. It was cold, very cold. Madame Giry came back to his side. Her eyes went from me to the driver who was standing nervously on the other side of the room. "You will need to hold him down. This will hurt him," she warned.

The driver came over to us and stood over the still body of the Phantom. I didn't know what she was going to do, but from the look in her eyes and the swift but stable movements I knew not to question her. I placed my hands gently but firmly on his arm and the other side of his body. The driver held down the lower part of him. Madame Giry began digging carefully into his back with the surgical pliers. "We have to get the bullet out. Otherwise there will be no point in stitching him up."

The early morning sunlight was shining through the window by the time Madame Giry was finished working on the Phantom. Watching her try and dig the bullet out was by far the worst. He had completely lost consciousness during the process. Afterward, Madame Giry stitched him up with expert hands.

"Do you think he's going to be ok?" I asked as she took her last stitch and cut the thread.

"I do believe so. Luckily the bullet didn't hit anything major. He lost a lot of blood, and he will need a lot of rest. If he had a doctor's care things might have been better" she explained, "but I do believe he'll be ok. We just need to make sure we keep the wound clean. Infection will be our biggest problem now. These tools aren't as sanitary as they should be and well…I'm not a doctor."

"You sure seemed like one," I said as I sat on the ground in front of the couch and took hold of his cold hand.

Madame Giry began cleaning up the mess of bloody towels. The driver of the carriage had disappeared long ago into the house. "I've learned a lot over the years," she explained. "It's regrettably not the first bullet wound I've treated."

I sighed. "How long do you think he'll need to stay here?" I knew that the Phantom and I needed to get out of town as soon as possible.

"I would say at least a week. Being on the road will be difficult. He'll need as much strength as he can gather," she said grimly.

"Great…," I sighed. I knew that being in Paris put him in grave danger. No doubt people would be searching for me as well. All of Paris would think that the Phantom kidnapped me. The quicker we were gone the better.

Madame Giry seemed to sense my anxiety. "It'll be ok, Christine. This house is my nephew's. He doesn't live here anymore because…well because. No one will come knocking, trust me." She put a hand on mine.

I smiled reluctantly. "Is your nephew the driver?" I asked.

She nodded. "Henri is his name."

"Christine…," the Phantom groaned. I turned to him. His eyes were slowly opening. This made me smile.

"I'll leave you two alone," Madame Giry announced as she left the room.

The Phantom turned over slowly. "Be careful. Don't break your stitches," I warned.

He held his arm, which Madame Giry had placed in a sling, and sat up slowly. He looked up at me smiling from ear to ear. Despite his pale features, his distorted face, and the obvious pain he must have been in, he looked absolutely delighted to see me. He put his hand to my cheek. "I thought it had been a dream…," he murmured. From the nature of his touch, I could tell he was trying to make sure I was real.

I grabbed his hand and held it close. "No, no it wasn't. I'm here," I reassured. I kissed his hands.

His eyes were wide, and I could tell he was on the verge of tears. "But why?" he asked.

The thoughts in my mind that had led me to my decision bordered on impossible to put into words. "It's difficult to explain. I was terrified when we first went down into your lair. I had no idea what you were going to do. And when you threatened Raoul…I was livid. But then I kissed you…," I looked to him. His eyes were wide. This was the first time I had noticed they were blue. His eyes were a gorgeous dark blue. "We kissed and well my heart took over from there. My mind told me to run with Raoul, but my heart…my soul told me I wanted you. I felt it in the kiss. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. I didn't understand it at all." I held my lips, still remembering the way that kiss felt. "Well then when you said I could go regardless…my mind sort of got on track with my heart. I knew then leaving those cellars without you would be the biggest mistake I'd ever make."

Surprisingly, he kissed me as soon as my mouth closed. It was the most passionate kiss we'd had since the one that had sealed my fate with him. I cupped his cheeks and held his lips to mine. "Christine, I love you," he told me after breaking the kiss.

"I think…I think I love you too," I replied. It felt weird to say this to the man that had scared the daylights out of me only days before. Still, even when I was frightened by him, I was entranced by him. Raoul would have been the safe thing to do. I could have lived a wonderful, happy life with him. Yet I had chosen the Phantom. Life would not be easy with him, but I felt that I would experience the most enduring, passionate love that any woman would ever experience. My feelings for him escaped most words. They could only be described as love.

"That's good enough for me," he laughed. I couldn't believe through all this craziness he was laughing. I had never seen him laugh before.

"I love you," I stated more confidently. His laughing turned into a look of pure contentment. "I love you, and I don't even know your real name."

"It's Erik," he answered. "My name is Erik."

"Erik…," I said. I liked the way it rolled off my tongue.

"A lot less menacing compared to the Phantom of the Opera," he laughed again.

"Yes," I agreed.

Madame Giry came back into the room carrying a cup of water. She handed it to Erik who drank it gladly. "I've sent Henri out for some food. This place has absolutely nothing as far as sustenance goes."

"Thank you, Antoinette," Erik said when he'd finished his water.

"We've made one of the bedrooms upstairs for you. Do you think you can manage to get up the stairs? I know you've lost a lot of blood and," she told us.

Erik stopped her from continuing. His legs were shaky, but with little aid he stood himself up. It was at this point that I noticed how incredibly skinny he was. His shirt was still off, and I had a good look at all his features. His ribs were sticking out. It didn't look like he'd had a proper meal in ages. When he turned around I noticed the lines of scars on his back. They looked like whip marks. The thought of someone whipping him made me want to burst into tears right there. "I've been injured far worse in my past. I think I can manage a simple gunshot." I held his hand as he we moved to the stairs. He was still shaky on his feet, but he managed to make it up the stairs and into the bedroom with little help.

The room was very nice, much nicer than where I normally slept. There was a nice queen sized bed with a canopy. On the bed was a lovely red quilt embroidered with gold designs. Henri must have come up here earlier and got rid of some of the dust. The quilt looked clean and the night tables were also dust free. A fire was also going in the bedroom's fireplace.

Erik sat on the bed with a sigh. I helped him under the warm quilt. I knew he must have been exhausted, but he seemed wide awake. "You should get some rest. Is there anything you need?" I asked.

He grinned up at me. "Yes, you. Would you please join me?" he practically begged. I couldn't refuse that tone.

His plea made me smile. Even with the distorted side of his face, the look of happiness suited him well. I lay on top of the comforter while he was underneath it. The sunlight was coming through the curtains giving me a good look at his face. His lip was malformed on one side. His cheek was a mess. All of it was discolored with sickly looking skin. Purple veins could easily be seen under the skin. The skin on his skull was so thin in one place that I could see the white of the bone. Then the other side of his face looked perfectly flawless and actually really handsome. It was if God had played a cruel joke.

He seemed to notice me examining his face. His body was rigid as I looked upon him, but he did not move out of my gaze. I moved my hand to trace my fingers over the prominent veins in his distorted cheek. I'd touched his face many times tonight, but this was the first time I got a truly good look at it while doing so. He held his breath as my hand went to the thin skin on his head. The dark veins were thicker than the yellow skin over his skull. "Does it hurt?" I asked him. His mangled features looked very painful.

"Not physically," he replied. I knew his features must have caused him a great deal of pain. "Does it scare you?" he asked after a moment.

I smiled and kissed his twisted cheek to answer his question. "I told you, your face isn't a problem for me."

He frowned. "My soul is," he said grimly as he pushed my hand away. He was referring to my words back in his lair.

"Your soul is hurt, but you're not beyond saving," I explained as I stubbornly put my hand back on his cheek.

"How do you know?" He didn't look too sure that he was still capable of being saved.

I smiled. He was looking up at me with those big blue eyes like a child. This man, who had seemed more like a spirit than a man only days before, looked completely lost right now. "Because I can see the beauty in you," I told him before I kissed him.

A tear formed in his eyes when I raised my lips from his. I could tell he wasn't used to kindness. "I'm sorry for everything Christine…I'm so sorry," he whimpered.

I put a finger on his deformed lips to silence him. "The past is the past. Agreed?"

He nodded. I lay my head on the pillow facing him. He turned around to do the same, wincing as he did so. "I can't believe Raoul shot you," I said. I knew Raoul was young and young men were bound to do anything, but I couldn't imagine the sweet Raoul shooting someone out of anger.

Erik let out a weak chuckle. "Love makes men do crazy things. Trust me I know."

That was indeed true. Erik had done far crazier things in the pursuit of love, but now he had the woman he wanted. "You should get your rest," I suggested. "There's no telling how long we'll be safe here." The entire city was likely looking for the two of us right now. Paris was a big place, but if enough people were searching someone might get lucky.

"Will you lay with me?" he asked. "I don't want you to leave."

"I wasn't going to leave," I answered. This gentle side of him was something I was not used to, but I really liked it.

He closed his eyes, and I did the same. I didn't know how it happened. The whole city was searching for me and the man I loved and my life was about to completely change, but I felt a peace wash over me as I lay there beside Erik. It was a peace I hadn't felt since my father passed away. It was so powerful and wonderful that I quickly fell asleep.

**Thanks for the reviews! Please review. : )**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the reviews! I just wanted to state that although I said Erik's past is Kay based, I changed the timeline a bit. He's a bit younger and Christine's a bit older.  
**

**Erik**

When I awoke Christine was asleep beside me. Her chocolate curls were spread across the white pillow in a lovely mess. She looked completely content as she slept. She also looked magnificently beautiful. Truthfully, I couldn't deny my surprise that she was still here. Half of me was expecting this to all be a dream I was going to wake up from. The other half of me was expecting her to be gone the moment I awoke. She was still here though. She had had every opportunity to run as far as she could, but she had chosen to stay. It was hard to believe. If it weren't for the pain in my shoulder I would be quite certain I was dreaming.

Pain shot through my shoulder and down my arm as I sat up. Curse that wretched Viscount. If Christine had chosen to go with him, I would not have lashed out. Then I again I had tried to hang him in order to blackmail Christine. I suppose his actions were justified, but I still was quite angry. I was careful to get out of bed. I didn't want to wake Christine, and I wasn't sure how steady I would be on my feet. My head spun a little when I stood on my feet. Luckily the fire was almost out and the room was all but completely dark. If I could have seen it spinning, I likely would have collapsed. The dizziness soon faded after I stood for a moment.

The sun was barely streaming through the window. We must have been sleeping for most of the day. It really didn't surprise me. If the mess that had happened last night didn't exhaust me, the blood loss certainly had done the trick. I knew Christine must have been out of it too. Many tears were shed last night. I didn't want to go near the windows. I wasn't quite sure where I was, and I didn't want anyone to see me.

"Erik?" Her voice was faint whisper. How glorious it was to know that I was the first thing she thought about when she woke.

"I'm here my love," I said as I went to her side.

She turned and smiled up at me. It was a truly glorious sight. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"A little sore, but I'll live," I replied. "How are you?"

She sat up. Her hair was a beautiful mess. "Perfect," she answered with a yawn. She rubbed her eyes as she did so. "You shouldn't be out of bed," she scolded.

I waved away her concern. "I've been through worse. Plus I've grown quite hungry in all the commotion."

She didn't look convinced. She got out of the bed and gently pushed me back down on to the mattress. "You sir need your rest. I will get whatever it is you need." Her voice sounded playful, but I could tell she was serious.

"Christine. I've wanted you to love me for years…you really expect me to let you be my nurse now that I've got you?"

"I don't care what you _want. _You _need _to rest," she said stubbornly. This was clearly a losing argument, but I had always been a stubborn one. "Plus there's no telling how long we'll be safe here. We may have to flee at any moment." Her tone became more serious.

"Where _is_ here exactly?" I inquired.

"A home of someone Madame Giry knows. Hopefully we can trust him," she replied.

"Antoinette is a resourceful and smart woman. If she trusts this person, than he or she is worthy of trust," I assured.

She nodded. "So what do you want for dinner?"

"I think we'll be having whatever our host feels fit to serve us." I stood up. She raised her hands to protest. "I will rest on the couch. Plus it's not like I'm running around. I'm simply going down the stairs."

She scowled. "Fine…but we better find a shirt for you."

We searched the dressers in the room. One was obviously a women's dresser from the fine designs carved into the wood. The other looked plainer. I looked inside and discovered plenty of white shirt and male undergarments. They were a little loose for me, but they still fit well enough. Christine investigated the door to the closet.

"Wow there's tones of dresses in here," she exclaimed. She came walking out holding a sapphire silk gown with black, lace trim. "This dress is beautiful!" She held it to her body looking very pleased.

"Anything would look beautiful on you Christine," I said. She could put on a burlap sack and she would look like a princess.

She smiled, but her smile quickly turned to a frown when I moved to put on the shirt. "What happened to your back?" she asked with big, sad eyes.

I knew she had to have noticed the line of scars. Someone would have to have been blind not to see them. I slipped the shirt on in silence and started buttoning it. "The past is the past Christine, remember?" I really didn't want to depress her with the story of my terrible childhood. It was bad enough Javert still haunted my dreams. He didn't need to haunt hers as well.

She nodded in understanding and replaced the dress in the closet. "I think it's best we don't mess with our host's things as much as we need to," she suggested with a frown. I had to agree.

We descended the stairs. Luckily my dizzy fit did not come back when I came to the living area where there were more candles and a roaring fire illuminating the room. There was a man sitting on a chair that I recognized as the driver that had helped rescue us. He was reading the paper. He flinched when he saw me. I remembered then I was not wearing my mask. Usually I was so aware of its presence. Without it I felt rather naked. Christine had relaxed me a bit. I suppose her opinion was the only one I cared about now.

I looked around for my bag that held an extra mask. It was sitting by the couch. I quickly retrieved it and placed a mask on my face. Since I was quite certain this was our kind host, I would put the mask on if he desired it. He didn't seem to act any less nervous when I had the mask on. I suppose anyone that knew of me would be frightened. I hadn't given many reasons for people to trust me. The rumors spreading must have given even greater cause to be frightened of me. "Hello," I greeted as kindly as I could.

He just stared at me making the situation rather awkward. "Hi…" he said nervously after a moment.

"May we sit?" I gestured toward the couch opposite the chair he sat on.

"You are my guests," he answered not seeming too pleased with the fact.

Christine and I thankfully took our seats. I immediately noticed a sketch of my distorted face on the front of the paper he read. It was only a sketch, but it was remarkably accurate. There was also a drawing of Christine. The headline read "Soprano Kidnapped by Terrible Phantom." I turned to Christine. She appeared to be reading the headline as well. She smiled weakly at me and took my hand in hers.

"You're on all the papers," the man said as he read. "They say you've killed at least two men, injured many others with the chandelier a few months ago, and kidnapped the Populaire's leading soprano. That's quite a record." His tone told me that he was not happy at all that we were here.

"I assure you I'm here on my own free will," Christine defended.

"I figured that, but that still doesn't change the fact that I'm harboring a fugitive in my family home," the man replied angrily. He put the paper down and stared at us contemptuously.

"Henri. I told you. Erik is of no harm," Madame Giry said as she glided out of the hallway glaring at Henri.

"I think the people he murdered would say something far different," he retorted.

I buried my head in my hands. I wasn't sure what to say about the situation. This man clearly was not a fan of mine. "I've done many terrible things in my life. I'm sorry to say that I've killed far more than two men in the past, and I've done other appalling things. That being said, I intend to do you no harm, and I will be out of here as soon as I can be."

Henri still did not look pleased. He turned to Antoinette who was giving him a dangerous stare. "Out of respect for Antoinette, you can stay here until you can find safety elsewhere." He stood up. "But I must advise that you make that sooner rather than later." He then disappeared out the front door.

"You'll have to excuse Henri. He's been rather cold since his parents passed a few years back," Ann explained.

"It's ok Ann. I understand," I responded with a smile.

"You must be hungry…I've prepared some soup in the kitchen," she told us.

"Soup sounds great," I replied. I typically didn't eat much, but I hadn't eaten in over twenty four hours and was quite hungry. I tried to stand up, but Christine grabbed my hand and gently pulled me back down.

"You sit here," she ordered as she stood up. "I will get you some soup." She gave me a devilish smile and followed Antoinette into the kitchen.

I took the moment alone to pick up the newspaper Henri had been reading. The entire front page was a long article about me. It detailed the things I'd done to torment the Populaire through the years. It went into great detail on my torture of Carlotta and of the chandelier fiasco. Then it went to last night. It talked about all the things I knew had happened such as me killing Piangi. But I was surprised to see that the Viscount had refused to speak to the press about his side of the story. I expected he would tell them that Christine went with me to save his life, conveniently leaving out the part where I said they could go, but she chose to go with me even still. I deserved no pity from Raoul de Chagny, and I expected none. His silence greatly surprised me, but I wasn't sure rather it was a good thing or a bad thing yet.

The article also talked about how the police were searching for me. All roads leading in and out the city were being monitored. That would make things difficult. Christine came into the room holding a tray. It had a bowl of soup on it along with some bread and a cup of water. She sat it on the table before me. The bowl was huge and filled with steaming vegetable soup. It smelled delectable. She went back into the kitchen and returned with her own bowl and cup. She took a seat beside me, sipping at her soup.

"Eat," she demanded when she noticed I was staring at my food.

"You can't honestly expect me to eat all this," I practically laughed. This bowl was about double the size of hers.

"Yes I do. You're skin and bone Erik. You better eat it…all…bread too," she ordered sternly.

I glared at her and took a spoonful of soup. It tasted quite good and hit the right place in my stomach. Antoinette was quite the cook.

I looked to Christine as I ate. She looked to be debating something in her head. She was now playing with her soup. "What's on your mind?" I asked nervously. I was still expecting her to say at any moment that she had made a mistake and was returning to Raoul.

She frowned when she looked up at me. "I just…I want to know about you. I know absolutely nothing about your past. I meant it when I said I loved you, and I know we agreed to let the past be the past. But I don't even know how old you are."

I knew this would be coming. It was inevitable. "I'm 36," I stated simply. She had to have known that I was a lot older than she was. At 18, she was just now out of her childhood. She didn't seem surprised though. Thankfully she took another bite of her soup.

"I expected you to be older," she admitted after a moment. "You don't look it or anything, but I thought with your level of talent that you must have many years of experience."

It was a relief that my age didn't appear to bother her at all. "I do have years of experience. They just started at a much younger age than most people."

"Oh really how young?" she inquired.

"I was doing advanced architecture by the age of six. By the time I was fifteen I had the skill of an experienced stone mason, and by twenty I was building for the shah of Persia." I went into great detail about certain parts of my life. I didn't even spare her the gruesome details about what the khanum had had me do while I worked for her. Christine didn't ask any questions until I got to the part about when I got poisoned.

"You almost died?" she asked incredulously, he brown eyes glowing.

I smiled at her and put down my half finished bowl of soup. "Yes," I replied. "My good friend Nadir nursed me back to health. Later he helped me escape Persia when the shah wanted my head."

Christine frowned again and started playing with her soup once more. "How many people have you killed?" she whispered. I knew she was nervous to know the answer.

I didn't want to tell her all of this, but I knew that I wanted her to know everything if she wanted to be with me. She had to make her decision knowing the truth about my past. "More than I can count," I answered solemnly. The khanum had been viscous when making me kill for her entertainment. I wish could have said that her orders were the only reason I did so, but that would have been a lie. I used to enjoy killing. It could be more powerful than opium at times. Over the years I had been able to quell those urges for the sake of my promise to Nadir. I could only expect Christine to be even more terrified by me now. She was silent though. Her beautiful features gave no indication to what she was thinking.

"The past is the past," she stated not looking at me and still playing with her soup.

"Yes," I agreed.

A loud knocking at the door scared Christine half to death. She dropped her bowl on the floor, spilling vegetable soup everywhere and shattering the bowl. Madame Giry came rushing into the room. She went to the door and peaked through a window. Her body went rigid. "Open up police!" A voice from outside the door bellowed.

I didn't think. I grabbed Christine's wrist and my bag and went into the kitchen. "I'll be right there," Madame Giry called as she came to us. She opened a door that led down a dark staircase. "Go hide in the basement," she ordered in a panicked whisper. She handed me a candle and practically pushed Christine and I down the dark stairs.

The basement was pitch back and cold. I held Christine close to give her warmth. Her breathing was rough and she was shaking. I knew she was frightened. I was quite scared as well. The whole place was filled with boxes, trunks, and covered furniture. It would not be difficult to hide in here. I helped Christine to sit under an old table in the darkest corner of the basement. I put the candle down beside her, and then grabbed a box and brought it closer to the table. I took the spot beside Christine and then closed off the open side of our hiding place. It was like our own little compartment. The table formed the top, the box I'd moved the side, and the wall the other side. This basement was so crammed that no one would suspect a thing.

I blew out the candle to prevent any light from beside seen where we hid. It was cramped in our little box. I helped Christine situate herself to where she was sitting in front of me, leaning her back on me chest. It gave us both more leg room, and I was able to wrap my arms around her for comfort. She held my arms tightly. I could still feel her shaking.

"It will be ok. It's me they want, not you. You're in no danger," I reassured.

"Yes but you are. If they find you, you'll be hanged. And if they hang you they might as well hang me too. That would be the kindest thing to do," she whispered. I could tell she was on the verge of tears.

"Don't be absurd. You've got your whole life ahead of you." Her words were heartbreaking yet heartwarming. I would never let her die because of me. Yet it warmed my heart to know that she cared that much. I could be hanged tomorrow, but I would die a happy man if this angelic woman truly loved me that much.

"It wouldn't be a life without you," she cried. This did bring me to tears, but I quickly silenced them when I heard the door to the basement open.

Christine gasped and buried her head into my good shoulder. There was a small crack between the table and the box. It gave me a good look of who was coming down the creaky staircase. Two officers came down talking amongst each other. They both were armed and the one carried a lantern in his hands. They were both young and didn't look like they wanted to be here. I didn't think they could see me for our hiding spot was on the other side of the room, but I backed away from the crack swiftly.

"I don't know why we're searching house to house," one whined.

"We're not. We have on good authority that Antoinette Giry is affiliated with the Phantom. They want us to investigate all leads," the other one argued.

"He's probably not even in the city anymore," the whiney one cried. "If he's got half a head on him he's long gone."

"The Viscount de Chagny shot him. He's not going to get far injured."

"If he's been shot then he'll end up in a hospital or dead." I could hear them rummaging through items in the basement. The sounds they made were getting closer and closer. Christine now had a death hold on me.

"I doubt that," the other one continued. "We're not dealing with a normal man here."

"Oh right…we're dealing with a ghost," the whiny one joked. Their voices were now passing the other side of the box. . I held my breath as they did so. They were so close I could hear them breathing. It would be just my luck to get caught and hanged when Christine had finally professed her love to me.

"He's just a man but a very cunning one."

"Gentlemen. I assure you there's nothing down here but dust and rats," I heard Madame Giry say from the stairs.

The two officers were silent for a moment. "I don't like rats," the whiny one said.

"You're pathetic," the other one scolded. I heard their footsteps getting further and further away. Then there was the hollow sound of footsteps on the wood stairs, and then I heard the door slam shut.

I let out a breath but didn't move. Christine's grip loosened a little, but she was still shaking. I kissed her on the top of her head. I then became aware that my hand had unconsciously slipped inside my bag during the encounter and had the Punjab lasso I'd packed in its grasp. I let go of it quickly and pushed the bag away. If Christine was going to be with me, murder was not an option.

Minutes passed. I heard the basement door open again. "Erik?" Madame Giry called. "They're gone."

Only then did I move the box away so Christine and I could get out. Madame Giry came to our aid with a candle when she saw us. "That was close," she said. "Very close."

**Hope you liked it, but please tell me what you thought!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Don't worry. The entire chapter is NOT in Raoul's point of view. **

**htr17 asked how old they are: Erik is 36, Christine is 18. Oh and I make most of my POTO stories M rated. Nothing will be too explicit, but it is a romance and well this is POTO. Things are bound to get steamy. ;p **

**Thanks for the reviews! Enjoy. **

**Raoul**

"I want you to find Christine Daae," I told the shadowy man. He was across the room sitting in the darkest corner. I wanted a man that could find my beloved Christine, and this Mr. Barrett came well recommended. I, however, did not know much about him. A friend of the family had given me his name. I needed him to rescue her from the clutches of that madman. Surely the Phantom must have had her under some sort of hypnosis. How else could she have chosen him? I could still see that dazed look in her eyes when she told me she was going with him. He had such power over her. I couldn't understand it, but I had to save her from it.

"And what of this man she is with? This mysterious phantom?" Monsieur Barrett inquired in a dark, deep voice.

I took a seat at my desk. "I know she's with him, but I caution you to be extra careful with this man. He's very crafty. Be sure to keep your hand at the level of your eyes when you think he may be close," I explained. The Phantom was certainly no man to be toyed around with. I had made that mistake once before. It would never be made again.

"Do you want me to kill him?" he asked darkly.

"What? Do what you must with him, but all I want is the safe return of Miss Daae."

"And what makes you so sure she's not exactly where she wants to be?" he asked.

"If she is, then I want to be convinced of it," I answered confidently. I took out a change purse I'd collected for this. "Half now, half when you deliver Christine Daae to me. If you actually manage to catch this Phantom I'm sure you will receive a hefty reward as well." I threw the change purse to him.

He caught it with ease and grace. "And this Madame Giry, you believe her to know something?" he inquired.

I nodded. "She seemed to know more about the Phantom than she led on. She's as good a lead as any."

He was silent a moment as he counted the money in the purse. Seeming pleased, he went to the door. In the moonlight, I was now able to make out his dark features. He had incredibly dark eyes that reflected the moon's light in a rather sinister manner. His nose was skinny and crooked and his black beard was a little grimy. "Consider it done Monsieur de Chagny." He then slipped out of the room.

**Christine **

The rest of the night was mostly spent in silence. I knew the three of us were quite shaken by the close call. A few hours had passed since the police left, but I still found my hands shaking. I had been so close to losing my angel of music forever.

Erik came out of the bathroom still drying his face off. Madame Giry had advised him to bathe. It was a good idea. Before his bath he had dried blood on his chest and arm. A bath was sorely needed. He wasn't wearing a shirt when he emerged. The shirt he put on this morning had blood on it because his bandage had started to seep with all the commotion. Luckily, there was no shortage of clothing in this room. With Madame Giry's convincing, Henri had agreed to let Erik take as many clothes as he needed. Henri had seemed less generous about the dresses but reluctantly agreed that I could wear some. I was very thankful. I had no clothes since we had run away so swiftly. Madame Giry had promised to bring me some of my own clothing from the opera dormitories, but tonight I was wearing a rather nice white lace nightgown. It was a little big in the bust but it fit me well enough.

Erik's eyes opened wide when he saw what I was wearing. It was the least amount of clothing he'd ever seen me in. Well the least that I knew about. "You look lovely, Christine," he exclaimed with wide blue eyes.

I blushed. "Thank you, Erik." He turned around to grab a shirt, and I noticed his wound had a trail of blood down his back. "Oh Erik…" I grabbed his towel and began to wipe the blood. "I need to replace your bandages and Madame Giry said you shouldn't go anywhere without that sling."

"The sling is annoying," he replied indignantly . "I prefer the full use of my arms."

I glared at him. "Well you won't have any use of this arm if you don't take care of it." I went into the bathroom and found the sling thrown on the ground. When I reentered the room Erik was staring silently into the vanity mirror. The room was dark and a shadow was cast on the distorted side of his face making it to where only the handsome side was visible.

"I like how the night can hide the ugly," he said, staring into the mirror.

I frowned and walked over to him. I placed a hand gently on his shoulder so not to hurt him. "Sometimes though…" I picked up a candle and held it to his face so that I could see all of him. "Sometimes there is beauty in the night…how can you see it if it's hidden?"

He turned his face to me. Tears were rimming around his blue eyes. He looked so lost and frightened. I knew that he was not used to kindness. I kissed him to prevent his cries. It started as a small kiss, but I soon felt a deep ferocity growing within me. I could feel it in him too from the way his lips held mine. The kiss deepened even more. I put the candle down and my hands felt their way up his cold chest as his hands found my hips. His breathing became labored in the intensity of the moment. That godlike voice of his made the sound so erotic! We fell on to the bed with him on top. He started to slowly place kisses down my neck and down the top of my chest…getting oh so close to my breasts. I put my hands to the side, letting him do whatever he pleased with me. I wanted him so badly! I wanted him to take me right then and there and finally pass the point of no return. But he stopped.

He quickly lifted his head and retreated across the room. His breathing was still heavy. I could see his chest moving even in the darkness. "I…I can't," he cried.

I felt like a child that had just been denied the greatest gift of all time. My warm body cooled down immediately leaving me feeling tense and well empty. I sat up angrily on the bed. "Why?" I pleaded. "Don't you want me?"

He came over to me and looked me straight in the eye. I could see the deep lust that was in him. He didn't even have to answer the question, I knew. His breath was still warm as he stared down upon me with those lustful blue eyes. "I…I'm just not quite sure what I'm doing," he admitted shamefully. I knew he had never been with a woman, but it was so sad to see his lack of confidence. I had never been with a man either.

I smiled devilishly. "Erik, just let your body and heart do all the work. I'm sure you'll do fine." I then pulled him down on top of me. I forced his lips to mine. Our kisses were almost feral. He was longing for me as much as I longed for him. I pushed him over and straddled him. He still seemed a bit nervous as I gazed upon him. I rolled my eyes and blew out the last remaining candle. Perhaps he would be more comfortable in the dark. He was.

I awoke the next morning with the sun blazing through the small gap in the curtains. Erik was behind me with his arm wrapped around my naked waist. His soft and steady warm breath on my neck told me that he was still asleep. Our legs and hands were entwined in one another's. I may have been naked, but it was the most comfortable I'd ever been in my entire life.

My whole body felt alive for the first time of my existence. That was what lying with a man was like? No, that was what sleeping with Erik was like. Erik may have never been with a woman, but he certainly knew how to please one. I wouldn't have expected anything less. He had an aura of sexuality around him. His voice was like making love as it was. Then he was so incredibly elegant in everything he did. Every movement that he made, in and out of the bed, was so graceful it was sexual. Making love to him was done without mind. It was deep passion merged with pure carnal instinct; it was the most magnificent thing I had ever experienced. The entire world seemed to fade away when we were making love. I could still feel his hands exploring every inch of my body, and I could feel his tender kisses on my skin even now. The thought sent shivers through my body.

I brought Erik's hand to my lips and kissed it. His body felt warm behind for the first time ever. I turned over to face him. I was careful to make sure I was still in his embrace. After last night, I never wanted to be out of his grasp again. He groaned as I did so. I'd awoken him.

One of his dark blue eyes opened. It shimmered in the bright, late afternoon light. "Good morning," he greeted with a smile.

"You're the god of love," I said sternly with a grin.

He laughed. It was such a good sound. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he replied.

"Enjoyed doesn't even begin to describe it," I admitted shamelessly. I situated my naked body to straddle him again. He was really strangely warm.

"Christine," he whispered. I could feel his desire for me growing. It's the reaction I had wanted. I bent down and kissed him. His face felt really hot.

"Wait…" I felt his forehead. He was burning up. He groaned when he realized that I had noticed. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Well besides the fact that I'm positive I have developed a fever, I've never been better," he replied in a hoarse voice. He helped me move to the side of him but winced as he did so. It wasn't like before; it seemed now like he was really in horrendous pain.

I remembered last night we had neglected to put on fresh bandages since we were otherwise engaged. Gently, I forced him to turn over so that I could see his back. It was hard for him to do so since he was in so much pain. His wound was terribly swollen. The skin around it was a deep red. The actual wound itself had a yellowy tint to it. Blood was seeping out of it slowly and down his back on to the bed. Carefully, I touched around the wound. The skin was burning hot, even compared to the rest of his body. A little bit of puss oozed out from the wound.

"It's infected," I announced sadly. One didn't need to be a doctor to figure that out.

"That's what I assumed," he responded with a slight air of indifference. I helped him to lie back down.

I stood up and found a pair of night pants for him lying on the floor. Madame Giry was going to have to examine him, and I'm sure he would prefer to be clothed. I helped him slip the pants on. He was having trouble using his injured arm at all. After I helped him, I slipped on the night dress that I had worn last night along with a robe.

"I'll get Madame Giry. Hopefully she'll know what to do," I told him as I went out the door and down the stairs. Madame Giry was nowhere to be found downstairs. Henri, however, was eating some lunch in the kitchen as he read the paper. I noticed that it was another headline about Erik and me. I didn't pay much attention though.

"We have a problem," I announced solemnly.

He looked up from the paper. "Good afternoon, Miss Daae. What's the problem?" He seemed to be in a better mood than he had been yesterday, or perhaps it was just because Erik was not here.

"Erik…the Phantom…his wound has become infected. I believe he's running a fever as well," I explained.

He didn't say a word, but he went back to reading his paper. "That's not good," he replied simply.

"No, it's not," I answered rather annoyed at his indifference. "Perhaps something should be done to help him."

"Madame Giry will be back momentarily…hopefully." He still didn't look up from his paper.

"Hopefully?"

I heard him chuckle a little. He then put the paper down and glared down at me. "Yes. Hopefully. The entire city is searching for your…Erik…and everyone suspects she knows something. She went on a little adventure to retrieve you some clothes. I can only hope the police don't find her and decide to bring her in for questioning," he explained coldly.

With everything going on, I hadn't thought about the danger Madame Giry was in. Everyone knew she had some strange affiliation with the opera ghost. It would only be common sense that the police would want to ask her some questions. I frowned. Henri seemed dissatisfied with my reaction, but he went back to reading his paper. "Please inform me when she returns," I stated sadly as I slipped out of the kitchen. I heard him scoff from behind me.

When I got back upstairs, Erik was resting with his eyes closed. I went into the bathroom and retrieved a rag. I wetted it with cold water and went back to Erik. With the wound as bad as it was, I didn't want to clean it without Madame Giry examining it. She would know what to do. I placed the wet rag on Erik's forehead and let the cold water run down his face. He sighed as I did so.

"Madame Giry will be home momentarily," I assured him. He opened his eyes and looked at me.

He looked dreadfully tired but quite content nonetheless. "Last night…it was the best night of my life," he told me.

I smiled and placed a kiss on his forehead. "Mine too."

**Thanks for the reviews! Please keep them coming. **** Hope you enjoyed. **


	5. Chapter 5

**I just wanted to say that Christine might seem a little out of character. I'm doing this on purpose. I don't want Christine to be the weak, indecisive thing that she tends to be. In this story, Christine is the woman I believe Erik deserves. **

**Anyway, thanks for the reviews! Enjoy! **

**Erik**

Every inch of my body was aching. My shoulder was the worst though. It had been a long time since I'd felt pain like the throbbing shooting through my back, down my side, and through my arm. I wanted to stay still to keep away from the pain, but the constant shivering made it hard. My fever was getting worse with every moment. Christine refused to leave my side. She was so concerned. Then there was last night, the most amazing night of my entire existence. In the darkness, I felt no shame and was completely able to give into the desires of my body. She had been right. Everything I did felt right. Our bodies had moved as one so perfectly. I can't imagine that being with a woman gets any better. Christine was a beautiful goddess and she had given herself to me. I didn't feel worthy of her transcendent love.

"Do you want anything?" Christine asked me tenderly. Concern was deep within her big, brown eyes.

I smiled at her. "Sing for me," I requested. Hearing her beautiful voice would be the perfect medicine for me.

She smiled back down at me. That sight was the most incredible thing I'd ever laid eyes on. "What would you like me to sing?" she inquired playfully.

I closed my eyes and situated myself comfortably. "Anything, my love. As long as it comes from your mouth it will be beautiful."

"Very well then." She cleared her throat. "_Think of me, think of me fondly. When we've said goodbye." _

Her voice was surely sent from the heavens. It seemed to wash over me and take all the pain away. That beautiful voice, I had helped to create it! She stopped abruptly when the door burst open. I opened my eyes to see Madame Giry come rushing in. I noticed Meg was behind her, but she stayed at the doorway looking at us nervously.

"Meg!" Christine called happily. She jumped off the bed and went to hug her friend.

Madame Giry had a worried look on her face as she lit a few extra candles. Christine had been keeping the room dim for me. I couldn't help but groan as Madame Giry forced me to sit up. The pain in my body instantly returned. It was such an inconvenience to have a fever. A fever made every little pain hurt just that much more. Madame Giry examined my back carefully. Thankfully she didn't touch it.

"This is what I feared would happen," she said gloomily. Christine turned around from talking to Meg to look at us. Meg looked like she had seen a ghost. I guess, in a way, she had.

"What's wrong?" Christine asked, fear in her eyes.

"This is terribly infected. He's going to need a doctor to clean it out. As much as I wish I could, I don't have the tools or experience to treat this," she explained, anxiety heavy in her strained voice.

Oh no. This didn't bode well for me. From the look on Christine's angelic features, I could tell she was thinking the very same thing. "You can't possibly be serious?" Christine exclaimed.

Madame Giry looked at her gravely. "I'm afraid I'm very serious."

"How are we going to get a doctor to look at him and not tell every officer in Paris where he is?" she asked indignantly.

"I know the stakes Christine. You forget all that I'm risking in helping you two. But he will die if we don't get a doctor to treat him," Madame Giry reaffirmed.

Christine looked at me grimly for some sort of support. I smiled weakly at her. "Perhaps it's best to just let me die," I said sadly. That would certainly be the easier and safer thing to do.

From the look Christine gave me, I knew she would have slapped me if I were well. A look of pure anger came into her beautiful features. Her brown eyes were glowing in the candlelight. "We're going to get you a damn doctor," she stated firmly before grabbing Meg and disappearing into the hallway.

"Antoinette." I stopped Madame Giry from following. She turned to me. "If worst comes to worst, protect Christine at all costs. Her well-being comes before mine."

She said nothing but nodded in understanding before gliding out of the room leaving me alone. I of course was nervous for my own health. With the way things were going it didn't seem to look well for me. It seemed like God was up to usual tricks. This one was particularly cruel. He gave me all that I ever wanted…true love, and now it was likely to be torn away from me. I loved Christine, and I knew she loved me too, but as time went on I was slowly seeing our future fading away.

I don't know how much time passed. It had to have been hours, but the fever was getting progressively worse and I was feeling a little delirious. Soon exhaustion took over, and I was forced to fall asleep despite the pain.

I awoke with Christine beside me. No light came through the window telling me it was dark outside. Christine was sitting on the bed beside me stroking my distorted cheek affectionately. She had a weak smile on her face. Her eyes were puffy, and I could tell she'd been crying. She also looked dreadfully tired. Now she seemed to have a strange easiness about her. It made_ me_ feel slightly uneasy. There was no reason to feel calm about this situation. "Hi," she greeted lovingly. Her voice was distant, almost like she was in a trance.

"What is it Christine?"

She smiled weakly as the door opened. A strange man came walking in accompanied by Madame Giry to one side and Meg was behind him. He was dressed in a suit that looked like it had been swiftly put on. Not all the buttons were done, and his belt was loose. The most particular thing about his clothing was the black blindfold around his eyes. Madame Giry came and lit every candle in the room. Meg stayed behind the man, almost like he was her prisoner. Christine didn't seem to notice them. She just stared at me lovingly with dreamlike brown eyes.

"You two should leave now," Christine ordered Meg and Madame Giry. "I don't want either of you to be implicated." Madame Giry looked to her daughter and then to Christine. I could tell she wanted to stay, but she knew she had to go for her own sake and for her daughter's.

Christine got up and went to Meg who gave her…a gun. Then Meg and Madame Giry both left the room, closing it and I heard the lock click. Christine went to the man and appeared to be untying something behind him. It was his hands. She then removed his blindfold. He was an older gentleman with a graying beard and a thick mustache. He gasped when he saw me.

Christine handed him a black bag. "Alright, this is your patient…now treat him."

"You can't be serious?" he exclaimed. He had begun to tremble a little.

Christine did not answer, but she held the gun up to him. "Treat him or we'll find a doctor that will. I'll be sure to get rid of all other witnesses though."

He gulped and came over to me. His hands trembled as he helped me to sit up. Touching me, seemed to sicken him. "Oh and if you purposefully hurt him, you'll die," Christine ordered. The coldness in her voice was frightening even to me. She seemed like a mother furiously protecting her child.

The doctor dug inside his bag and brought out tons of little tools. I knew little about medical tools, but from the look of them I knew this was going to hurt dreadfully. He began removing the stitches on my wound. The removal of each stitch sent spikes of pain throughout my body. I was too exhausted to even wince though. I just sat there and took it. He cleaned out my wound in complete silence, but even in my feverish daze I could hear his heavy breathing. Christine remained as silent and still as a statue as he worked. She never seemed to relax her hand; it was always tight around the weapon she held.

"We shouldn't stitch it again until the infection has cleared up some," the doctor announced.

"How long is that going to take?" she asked.

"It depends. It could take days, it could take weeks. The wound has to be regularly cleaned, but his body must fight off the rest," he explained.

"Will he survive?"

"It's a touch and go thing, Miss Daae. Many survive such infections, many do not. I would say pray about it, but I'm not sure God has his ear to… him." He looked at me disdainfully. Had I the energy to move, I would have wanted to strangle him.

Christine scowled at him. Roughly, she placed the blindfold back on him. Then she left the room. The doctor seemed to stop breathing when he was alone with me. Even in my weakened state, I could see that he was trembling. "You're hoping I…I die, aren't you?" I coughed.

"It wouldn't be the worst thing to happen in this world," he replied. He had such courage for one that was so noticeably scared. I had to admire it a bit.

"I guess all of Paris wishes me to die. There is no love for monsters," I replied weakly.

"Monsters do not deserve love," he answered.

A twinge of pain shot through my body. "Uhh…that doesn't stop them from craving it though," I told him before allowing my eyes to close.

Moments later I heard Christine come in and then leave again. I could no longer sense the presence of the doctor in the room. All of Paris thought me a terrible monster. Part of me thought myself a terrible monster still, but would a beauty like Christine love a monster? She saw the goodness in me. She saw the beauty in my heart. I had given her every reason to hate me, but for some reason she loved me. Not only that, she loved me enough to risk it all to save me. To think, a gun was in her sweet, innocent hands. Those beautiful hands should never have to do terrible things, but she chose to do them for me.

I don't know how or when I fell asleep, but I awoke with Christine beside me. She was fast asleep with her hands wrapped around mine. The light of the early morning sun was coming through the window. I still felt feverish, but the good night's rest had helped to take the edge off. Christine looked like a beautiful statue as she slept. Her beautiful brunette hair was strewn about the pillow and over her face. I turned to face her. Pain shot through my body, but I wanted to be closer to her. I grabbed her small waist and brought it closer.

Her sleepy eyes opened a little. "Mmmm," she happily moaned. I held her so close that my face, distortion and all, was resting in her sweet curls. They smelled of roses. She must have taken a bath.

"I'm sorry to wake you," I whispered. "I just wanted to hold you closer."

She smiled. "You're forgiven," she replied. She snuggled even closer to me and soon fell back asleep. I must have as well. Even with the pain in my body, it was too blissful a moment to not relax and drift off to sweet oblivion.

_I could hear the crowds cheering from beneath my black shroud. They were sneering at me, happy that I would soon be gone from this world. My hands were bound behind my back; my head was covered with a black bag. All I could see was dim light breaking through the thread of the sack. My body felt weak, defeated. My knees didn't seem to want to go on any more. _

"_Do you wish to see his face?" I strange voice called to the crowd, enraging them even more. _

"_Let's see it!" _

"_Show us!" they chanted. _

_The darkness and cover the black bag on my head provided was then ripped away. I was standing on a platform facing a crowd of hundreds of people. The whole crowd gasped when they saw my face. One could have heard a pin drop from across the square when all those terrified faces gazed upon my monstrous face. Their eyes were all wide, filled with hate and disgust. I saw the Viscount on the front row of the crowd looking upon me with proud eyes. A sinister smile was on his lips. He had finally won. Then in the middle of the crowd, was Christine. Tears were in her eyes. Madame Giry held her close and Meg was at her side as well. My poor Christine! _

_A child screamed in terror. "Hang him!" the crowd roared. "Hang the murderer!" _

_Then I felt a rope being placed around my neck. It was so similar to the way I had taken so many out of this world. I guess it was only fitting that I would meet the same fate. My eyes remained on Christine who was staring at me with sorrowful brown eyes. She looked so lost it broke my heart. _

_I wanted to cry, but there was a loud noise and then I couldn't breathe. I desperately struggled to find my breath, but something was slowly draining the life from me. All I could think about was Christine , and how I had lost her for good. _

"Huhh!" I shot up from where I slept. Ignoring the pain from my shoulder, my hands went to my neck.

"Erik what's wrong?" Christine cried. I was in bed with her beside me. She sat up with me, looking just as panicked as I felt. "Are you ok?"

"A nightmare," I replied. "It was just a nightmare." The words were more for me than for her. It was now daylight outside, and it appeared to be later in the day. I must have been sleeping for quite awhile.

She looked at me with wide eyes. "Seems like one heck of a nightmare."

"I was being hanged," I told her. I heard her skip a breath. "You were crying."

"That _was_ quite a nightmare," she said. She gulped nervously. I knew she was fearful of such a thing actually happening.

My jaw clenched. "Christine, this is all my fault. If I weren't such a fool with such a horrific temper we would not be in this mess."

"What do you mean?"

"You were holding a gun to that man last night. I know you were trying to protect me, but it's me that should be protecting you."

She frowned. "Erik, we protect each other."

"I don't deserve you," I murmured. "You could be with the Viscount right now. You wouldn't have to be holding a man at gunpoint if you were with him."

She kissed my distorted cheek. "But I am not in love with Raoul, I am in love with you." She smiled. "Women do crazy things when they're in love as well." She gently pushed me back down and laid her head on my shoulder. Her eyes gazed up at me lovingly. She was so precious. She always knew what to say to calm me worrying. "Do you feel better?" she inquired after a moment.

Physically I felt a lot better. I could still feel the slight ache in my body that told me I was running a fever, but it was far less severe than it had been previously. Mentally, I felt terrible. I felt like I was putting Christine in far more danger than she deserved. "Erik?" she asked when I did not answer.

"I feel a lot better," I answered finally.

"Good." She got out of bed and put on a robe. "Hopefully in the next day or so you'll be able to come up with plan as to how we're supposed to get out of here."

"You and Madame Giry have no ideas?"

She frowned. "No, Henri has been keeping an eye on the roads in and out of the city to see if the security has relaxed some, but it appears to only be getting worse."

"How has our host been?" I knew Henri was not the biggest fan of mine.

"I've hardly talked to him, but he appears to just want us out of here."

"Did he help with your kidnapping of a doctor?"

"Reluctantly. He took some convincing. I told him that I was doing it with or without his help, but that if I got caught I was telling the police everything including who had helped me. After that, he realized he had no choice."

"Christine, who would have thought you had all this in you?"

She smiled. "I guess I'm not that lost, wandering child anymore."

"No, certainly not."

The next few days passed slowly. I was confined to the bed by Christine's order, and it was an order I didn't dare refuse. She tended to me lovingly and always slept by my side. In only a day's time my fever broke, and in two days time, the gunshot actually began to heal. It still hurt unbelievably bad, but it no longer bled and it was starting to slowly close on its own.

It was now night time. Christine and I were alone in the house. Madame Giry had gone home to take care of some business, and Henri was out scoping the roads once more. He was desperate to have us out of his family's home.

The fire was burning brightly, brilliantly illuminated the room and casting wild shadows of Christine and me as we sat on the couch. I had taken to drawing a portrait of her. She was engrossed in a book and didn't seem to notice that I was using her as a model.

Drawing her was so frustrating now. It was so hard to draw her perfect lips now that I had actually tasted them. Angrily, I threw the paper down. "It's impossible," I announced, annoyed but kind of playful.

Christine looked up from her book curiously. She was eyeing me with those beautiful amber eyes of hers. "What is?" she asked.

I got closer to her and pushed a chocolate curl behind her ear. She smiled as I did so. "Your face is too beautiful to put on paper," I declared.

"You've drawn me before," she replied playfully. She had inched a little closer to me. Gently, she had placed her hand on my leg.

"Well it's different now…"

"How so?"

I touched her sensuous lips. She took a deep breath as I did so. We had not touched each other intimately since our first time. I had been much too sick, but I found myself desperately wanting her now. "Now that I've had perfection, I realize that it's impossible to put on paper." I then kissed her. I put all the need that had been gathering in me into that kiss. It took her breath away. Pinning her underneath me, I kissed her desperately. I was still wearing the mask. She looked ready to pull it off, but the front door suddenly burst open and Henri came storming in.

Swiftly, I leapt away from Christine. I didn't want him to see our intimate moment. He looked to be in a rage, but he also looked terribly scared. "What is it, Henri?" she asked. He was obviously in distress.

"It's Madame Giry. They've arrested her," he announced.

**This chapter might seem a little rushed. Just trying to get to the action. Enjoy! **


	6. Chapter 6

**I thought I'd surprise everyone and do another Erik chapter! Well half of one. I also realized that Erik's been coming across as kind of whiny and pathetic. Hehe…that will be no more. **

**Erik **

Rage was not the first emotion that found itself moving throughout my body. Neither was anxiety. This surprised me. In the past, when something didn't go according to plan, I was found myself filled with a deep, terrible anger. I had a temper that no one could rival. Anxiety was always present in every aspect of my life. Would they find me? Would Christine finally find some rationality and begin to unconditionally loathe me? Ever since I ran away from my mother all those years ago, I've been anxious. It was normal for me. Now though, when I had good reason to be anxious, I was strangely calm. I knew I would rescue Antoinette. I would stop at nothing until I did.

Henri stared at me with anger glowing in his eyes. "This is your fault!" he accused. It was my fault. Antoinette Giry had put her livelihood on the line for me, and now she was paying for it. I didn't deserve such a loyal friend, but I would rescue her if it was the last thing I did.

"Hush!" Christine yelled at him. "Madame Giry knew the risks. She wanted to help Erik."

"She was foolish for doing so!" he retorted.

"How dare you disrespect her? Antoinette Giry is one of the most intelligent individuals I know," Christine argued back.

"Obviously not intelligent enough. Anyone with common sense would have given this creature to the police the first chance they got!"

"Well then obviously you're lacking a little in common sense as well! We are in _your _house!"

"That's only because I respected Ann's wishes!"

"Will you two both shut up?" I requested calmly. My mind was racing to form a quick but thorough plan. It was coming quickly to me how to rescue her. The answer was quite simple.

Christine looked at me expectantly. Henri looked outraged. "How dare you tell me to shut up?" he cried. Now rage filled me. I stood up in one fast, easy motion and had my hand around his neck, pinning his body down against the back of the couch.

Christine gasped but she stood back. I looked angrily into Henri's dark, brown eyes. He looked petrified of what I might do. "I will rescue Antoinette, but I can't do it with your ranting. If you want to help, you'll have to calm yourself."

He looked indignant. His eyes raced for some sort of reply. Then, seeming to find none, he sighed. "What's the plan?"

I grinned. It was totally insane and reckless. Christine would be furious, but she had to trust me. She didn't know my past; she didn't know the things I was truly capable of. I released my hand from Henri's neck. Straightening my shirt, I turned from Henri to Christine. "All they really want is me, right?" The question was really rhetorical, but Henri nodded. Christine remained silent. Her brown eyes were trying desperately to read me. "Well I'm going to give myself to them."

"What?" Henri exclaimed. I was surprised that he had been the first to react to my announcement. Christine sat down on the couch. Her eyes gave away nothing of what she was thinking. I could tell she was examining all possibilities. "If you get captured, Ann and mine's sacrifice will have been in vain!"

I glared at Henri. "You're an idiot," Christine said. At first, I thought she was talking to me, but her eyes were firmly planted on Henri. "Obviously, he has a part two to the plan."

I smiled at her. She was beautiful, talented, and intelligent. Plus she had a powerful fire hidden within her soul that made her capable of things I never would have deemed her capable of. Henri scoffed and paced to the other side of the room. "You both are mad," he cursed under his breath.

I was quite mad. Christine looked to me expectantly. "I'll leave a note telling them that I'll trade myself for the release of Antoinette. That's obviously an offer they won't be able to refuse. From the paper, I hear there is a rather large reward for my capture. However, I'll make sure that we meet on my terms and in a location of my choosing."

A sly smile came over Christine's face. "The opera house," she said realizing my plan.

Oh how I loved her. I nodded. "Are you mad? The opera house is in shambles!" Henri added angrily.

I smiled sinisterly at him. Of course I knew that the opera house was in terrible shape after the craziness that occurred there the night I stole Christine. "The cellars are not," I told him confidently.

**Madame Giry **

The cell I had been placed in was cold and wet. Water from the streets seeped onto the dirty, stone walls adding to the cold and also adding a torturous dripping noise that was sure to drive me mad. A few torches lit the stone hallway my cell was on, but it was still incredibly dark. The lack of light allowed terrifying shadows to dance across the moist walls. In the cell next to mine, there was an old drunk who was snoring as he slept off last night's drinking binge. Next to his cell, was a short, creepy man with a sinister look in his eyes. He was staring at me through the rusty bars. I could hardly see him in the darkness, but every now and then the fire from the candlelight illuminated devilishly in his eyes. I could also tell he was grinning.

"You're here because of that opera ghost," he sneered. His voice was cold and mocking. I couldn't be bothered to respond to him. "Are you the monster's little bitch?" he laughed. His words angered me beyond compare, but I would have to keep a cool temper. One could say whatever they wanted to a man like this and it wouldn't make a difference. I didn't even bother to look at him anymore.

There was no way of telling what time of day it was. They had taken me in the afternoon at my home. I had been talking some things over with Meg about Erik's whole situation. I needed her to run our household while I was tending to Erik's needs. The police then had burst through the door and taken me without ever even explaining why. Even still, they hadn't told me the exact charges. There was no proof that I had aided the opera ghost. Raoul didn't even know how much I had helped Erik. They had searched Henri's house last, but I made sure they found no trace of Erik there. The way they were holding me like this…it felt like it was not official. Were they trying to lure Erik out of hiding? There was a substantial award for his capture alive…or dead. Perhaps some officers were going outside the law to collect it. That would not work. Erik was too smart for that. I pitied anyone that went head to head with Erik. Raoul had tried, and had Erik not been a kind soul, Raoul would be dead.

I felt that it must have been late at night now. I was a pretty good judge of time. The wretched dripping of that water was driving me mad! Plus that sniveling convict couldn't keep his eyes off of me. Every so often he stuck his tongue out and pretended to be licking me. It was atrocious.

The sound of metal moving through the doorway distracted me from my revulsion. Someone was coming. A guard soon appeared in the hallways accompanied by the two officers that had arrested me. They looked very pleased with themselves. One of them was very young. He had pale blonde hair and grey eyes. His face was riddled with youthful blemishes on the skin. I certainly wasn't found of looking at him. The other appeared to be a bit older, perhaps my age. There was a twinge of grey in his brown beard and on his side burns. He had brown eyes. The composure and confidence in his stance told me that he was the one in charge.

"Antoinette Giry," he older one said in a degrading tone as the guard opened my cell. "You're in luck, you're fiendish friend wants a trade. You for him."

I was utterly astonished. Surely Erik could not be that foolish! I wouldn't have risked everything for him to be captured anyway. I could tell the guards wanted me to come out of the cell, but I indignantly stood in the corner, as far from the door as possible. "Well you should tell him that I'm perfectly fine where I am," I suggested stubbornly.

The younger officer laughed. The older one did not say a word, but he slowly walked in the cell carrying a large pair of rusty handcuffs. Roughly, he grabbed my hands and placed them on me. "This isn't a negotiation," he said coldly into my face. His breath smelled putrid. It smelled like rotten meat mixed with alcohol. He then pulled me by the handcuffs all the way out of the prison. They loaded me into an old carriage. Four other officers joined them. It was dark outside. The moon was shining bright, accompanied by the multitude of stars. Four guards set with me in the carriage, two others set on the driver's stool.

My wrists hurt horribly bad by the time they sat me down. I didn't look at the officers that sat with me, but I could feel their cold gaze on me as I massaged my aching wrists. Red welts had started to appear on my skin. Did they have to be so cruel? The carriage started to move swiftly.

"I guess the demon does care about her," one of the officers laughed. "I'm surprised something like that cares about anyone."

"I'm just surprised that he was able to keep his cock out of that pretty soprano long enough to see to this one."

"I know I couldn't keep my cock out of that pretty thing!" another one laughed.

"He's probably raping her as we speak!"

Their voices were so condescending. I hated hearing those terrible things about Erik and Christine. Erik was such a good man. Compared to these pitiful excuses for human flesh, he was a saint. I turned to look at the officer in front of me; he had been the one to make one of the cruel comments. He actually looked to be about Erik's age, and he was incredibly handsome. He had dark golden hair and light, hazel eyes. His skin was perfect. Oh if only the precious Erik had been blessed with such a face. This man was handsome, but he was more of a monster than Erik.

"What you looking at?" the man scoffed.

"I pitiful excuse for a human being. If you _men _are an example of the human race than I'd rather spend my time around monsters!" I scorned. A look of outrage came over the man in front of me. He hit me across the face so hard that my nose began to bleed and my vision went black for a moment. I held my arm up to my face to catch the blood. Then I looked back at the man, glaring at him. "Point proven," I spat. This time he hit me so hard everything went black.

When I awoke two of the other officers were pulling me out of the carriage. My head was throbbing uncontrollably. It was hard to see from the lack of light and the slight dizziness in my vision, but I quickly recognized we were outside the deserted Opera Populaire. What were we doing here? Most people kept their distance from here now for fear of the dreaded opera ghost. The police had searched the theatre from top to bottom, but no sign of Erik could be found .Eventually they moved to searching the rest of the city. Now the beautiful opera house was almost ghostlike itself. As we stood in front of the dark, looming structure I could easily feel the foreboding.

The guards practically dragged me through the doors. A terrible dizziness along with my dreadful stubbornness made it impossible for me to walk straight. Even if it caused me more pain, I would make every step more difficult for these terrible men. They dragged me all the way to Christine's old dressing room. We ran into no one in the dark halls. The men had brought some torches, but there was no other light in the giant building. The only sound was the echoing of our footsteps. Even the arrogant officers were now silent. I could sense their fear. They knew they were in the opera ghost's domain. Had Erik been the one to suggest making a trade here? Had the officers been stupid enough to accept it?

"Why on earth did you agree to make the deal here?" one of the officers whispered. I thought it was funny that they kept their voices down. If Erik was here, he heard everything. He would be able to sense their fear.

"He said it's the only place he would agree to…the only place we'd have a chance to get our hands on him and the substantial reward," the older guard explained. "As much as I love the old lady, she's worth nothing to us without him." Erik would eat them up and spit them out. They had no idea who they were dealing with.

"He's got the upper hand on us here though," another one of the officers whined. I was surprised. He actually had some intelligence.

"There's six of us and one of him," the older officer argued. A whole army could not defeat Erik in his domain. "Now shut up and move."

When we entered Christine's dressing room, I noticed the sliding mirror was open and the candles in the tunnel behind it had been lit. It was almost as if Erik were inviting them to go further. I knew of some of the traps Erik kept in this hall, but I'm not even sure I knew the half of them. They dragged me through the mirror frame and down the tunnel. I could sense their anxiety growing.

The group was about halfway down the long hallway when the man in front ran into something. I quickly realized it was a tripwire. A trap door opened up above him and a noose came down around his neck and snatched him up through the ceiling. It all happened so fast. One minute he was there and the next minute he was gone. He hadn't even had the time to scream. The door shut behind him, but the remaining officers and I could hear him struggling. Then the struggling stopped. I know smiling at the death of another was bad, but I couldn't help but grin. I had never seen the trip wire before. Erik had prepared for the officers.

"Armand!" the older officer called angrily. The anxiety in the group rose substantially. "Armand!" There was no answer.

"What the hell was that?" one of the younger officers demanded to the guy in charge.

"A trap," the older man replied grimly. "These tunnels are probably riddled with them. We'll have to watch our step more carefully. He then descended further down the tunnel. I had to admit he was brave going first.

I knew the tunnels decently well, but I hardly came down here. Erik had shown me a safe route past the first tunnel, but he hadn't taken me more than halfway down the spiral staircase when giving me the tour. He had said that was all I needed to know. When we reached the familiar spiral, stone staircase there were no more torches lit on the walls. I guess Erik wanted to keep his secrets hidden in the darkness. The officers took each step carefully. They also kept a death grip on me.

"Wait!" one of the guards with the torches cried when we went down a few steps. The older officer in front stopped exactly where he was.

"What is it Martin?" he asked. The young officer known as Martin carefully went to the front of the group. I recognized this to be the acne faced young man that had helped release me from my cell. He held his torch down to the ground to reveal the outline of a trap door on the stone ground. The older officer gulped. "Good eye." Martin nodded with a grin, obviously proud of himself. I rolled my eyes.

Martin then took the lead, but he suddenly disappeared with a scream and the splashing of water. There had been another trap door only a few feet ahead. The group ran to look down at Martin who yelled for help. He was in a dark pit of water. A metal grate had fallen down on top of him and was slowly closing down to trap him underneath the water. Again, I grinned.

"Martin!" the older officer cried out to him.

"Help me!" Martin pleaded. The grate now almost had him trapped under water.

The older officer looked around quickly. One of the younger ones looked panicked. He backed away from the trap door. "The Phantom of the Opera is going to kill us all," he sobbed.

"Shut up! We need a rope. Perhaps we could jump down and help," the older man said. Martin's cries had ceased. He was now completely trapped underwater. In the dim light I could see his body struggling desperately underneath the water line.

"Hell if I'm going down there," one of the younger men said definitively.

After a moment, Martin stopped moving. The group of officers went quiet. "He's dead," the older man announced sadly. "There's nothing more we can do."

"Oh God!" the other young man cried. He was now near the stone railing of the staircase. He leaned against it to hold himself up, but he hadn't seen what I had seen. That particular part of railing was a trap. It slid open like a door. Startled, the young man desperately struggled to keep his footing, but he soon fell down the middle of the staircase. The group ran to see him, staying away from the rail, but it was far too dark to see anything. He screams could be heard for a few seconds though, echoing through the dark. Then there was a terrible thud and his cries stopped.

All of the officers were speechless. I loved it. "Not so confident now are we?" I laughed. The older man looked outraged. He slapped me. Even though it hurt, I couldn't resist a smile. Their desperation brought me such joy.

"Make her lead!" The older man ordered. The officer that looked Erik's age was the one that kept his hold on me the entire time. He now held me out front with a pistol pointed at my back. I wasn't even nervous. Erik would know what to do.

We made our way to the bottom of the staircase and we were now staring at the crystal like lake. The torchlight shimmered in the water. Erik had even been kind enough to leave a boat and two oars out for us. It wasn't the gondola that I had been told about, but rather a boat that could fit us all. Across the lake there was a single fiery light glowing to signal the way. Even I was strangely frightened by the flickering light, and _I knew_ Erik would not harm me. These officer's didn't have the luxury of knowing that.

"Do we trust it?" one of the younger men asked nervously. They all looked at the boat as if it were some sort of sleeping monster. I rolled my eyes and stepped confidently into the boat. I took a seat at the front and patted the spot next to me with a grin. The action put the men to shame. The older man snapped the torch out of another guy's hands and stood in the boat with me. It took a moment for the other two to gather up the courage to join us but finally they did.

Only the single torch lit our way as one of the younger officers rowed us along the water, across the lake. The torch only lit the vicinity of the boat. All around us was nothing but a deep darkness. Only the light of the flame before us lit the way. As we went further, an eerie fog appeared on the lake. The temperature also seemed to drop. I could now see my breath and the breath of those with me in the air. I had never been this far into the cellars before. I knew better than to pry in Erik's home.

Soon the boat hit land. With the small light of the torch in the officer's hand, and the light of the small flame on the land, I could see we were in Erik's real home. The lights from the flame danced on the golden frame of Erik's piano. I could also see music and other beautiful art scattering the area. The older officer pushed me to the front of the boat. "You get off first," he ordered.

I wasn't even a bit hesitant to leap on to the stone ground. I turned to look at the men behind me. They looked like frightened children. The older officer was the first to hesitantly disembark the boat. As he did so though, a strange wind blew through the area and extinguished all the light. The torch fizzled out and so did the flame that had been our beacon to this area. Then the phantom wind disappeared as if it had never been there. We were now left in complete darkness.

The younger men screamed like little girls when the light went out. Their breathing was heavy and panicked. Instinctively, I backed away from their cries. I felt that something terrible was about to happen to them, and I wanted to be nowhere in their vicinity. As I did so, there was the sound of a cape whooshing through the air. One of the man's cries vanished. There wasn't even the sound of a struggle.

"What the hell?" the older man demanded. The only remaining young man's cries grew louder. Then there was another swoosh of a cape, and his cries ended as well. I could hear the older man stepping nervously around the ground. From the sound of it, I could tell he was no more than ten feet away from me. "Show yourself dammit!" he commanded in desperation.

A terrifying, villainous laughter that I recognized as Erik's then erupted from across the lake. Then it seemed to move all the way behind us, where I knew the piano to be, in just seconds. Then it moved across the room and then back across the lake again before stopping as suddenly as it started. I could hear the desperate breath of the only remaining officer. This man was about to meet a gruesome death. Erik would show no mercy.

Silence followed the laughter. It was a petrifying silence. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I wasn't fearful but in awe. Suddenly a small flame from a match illuminated the face of the older officer. Tears were in his eyes. In all my years I had never seen a man look so scared. He held the match around the room, but it did little to help. The darkness in here seemed to absorb all the light and only make the area appear darker. "Stop toying with me dammit and show yourself!" he ordered with a shaky voice.

He lit another match when the other one faded. From a few feet away, I saw the glow of the dying match along with his face, walking around the area. Then, in the small illuminated vicinity it gave, I saw Erik's white mask appear, his brilliant blue eyes glowing orange with the light of the match. The officer hardly had enough time to scream. Quickly, the light from the match disappeared leaving me in complete darkness. I heard the futile struggles of the officer, but then there was only silence.

"Erik?" I called into the dark abyss. There was no reply. "Erik?" Suddenly the entire area lit up at once. Dozens of candles flickered to life at the same time to reveal Erik's beautiful lair. It was so incredible in here. Spectacular paintings and drawings, mostly of Christine, covered the walls. Golden candelabras shimmered, their light reflected gorgeously off the lake. His piano was trimmed with gold and silver and was covered by so many candles it was like we were situated among the stars. Some people had come here when they hunted Erik, but I had never dared to venture into his lair. When the mob hunted for his blood, I had been too busy searching for a way to save him. Erik stood in the far corner of the magnificent cavern.

He was dressed in all black. His elegant, velvet cape was draped around his broad shoulders covering most of his body. The black hair of the wig was perfectly smoothed back. He stared at me with dark eyes. He looked absolutely murderous, but then his expression quickly changed to one of concern. He ran to my side and helped me to my feet.

"Oh my…" he exclaimed when he saw the blood on my face. He sat me down on a large thrown carved from wood and also trimmed with gold and silver. "Christine!" he called toward a door on the other side of the cavern. Moments later Christine came rushing out of the door with Henri at her heels.

She gasped when she saw me and immediately ran to my side. Carefully, she examined my nose and the wound that I felt on my forehead. "I'm fine," I assured. The wounds throbbed a little, but they were nothing serious. I also realized at this moment that there were no signs of the bodies of the officers. The boat was empty…there wasn't even blood. It was like they hadn't been here at all.

"I can't believe they would treat you like this…they were the police," Henri said, outraged.

"They may have been officers of the law, but they were not doing the work of the law. There would be no reason to hold Antoinette. No evidence links me to her," Erik explained. I couldn't believe he had taken all them out like it was nothing. I knew he was a force to be reckoned with, but seeing what he was truly capable of was astonishing.

"Their intention was to use me as bait to lure you out," I told him with the officers' cruel words still in my head. Wetting it from the lake, Christine grabbed a rag and began to wash the blood off my face.

"That makes sense," she said sadly. Her amber eyes were filled with concern.

"If people are willing to use you to get to me, we must assume no where you know is safe anymore," Erik announced. "That means the house is no longer safe."

"No one even knows someone's moved in there!" Henri argued.

"Someone knows, they came looking for us there last week," Christine snapped at him. She was so different now with Erik. It was like he had awoken a fire within her. She was no longer the sad little girl that wept for her father; she was a dangerous and beautiful woman. It was a strange transformation. Just a few nights ago, I knew she would have killed that doctor if it meant protecting Erik.

Henri sighed heavily. "Where are we supposed to go?" he asked, annoyed.

"We? Nowhere. I'm sure no one will come looking for you, Henri. Antoinette should try and lay low for awhile, but as I said there is no logical reason to arrest her. Christine and I will have to run though. We're no longer safe in your midst. Further contact will only put us and you in danger." Erik's voice was cold and calculating, but I knew he only meant well. He was trying to protect Henri and me.

Henri made no argument, but the three of them looked to me to see if I agreed. I simply nodded. I wanted to help Erik as much as I could, but I knew he was right. In the end, I had to look out for my own family before him. He was a dear friend that I loved and cared for, but Meg was my daughter and Henri was like a son to me. Their safety came first.

Erik nodded back at me. "Then it's settled." He then began to sweep around the room, quickly gathering various items and placing them in a bag.

Christine smiled weakly at me. Tears rimmed her amber eyes. She was like a daughter to me, and I knew I was like a mother to her. I would miss her terribly, but Erik would protect her with his life. Plus I knew not even he could convince her to stay behind. Who was I to try? I took her in my grasp and hugged her tight. My tears began to mat her brown curls. I could feel her sobs in my shoulder. Erik was obviously preparing to leave, and this might be the last time I would see this beautiful child…no woman again.

"I love you," I whispered to her. She withdrew from hug, and gazed up at me with wide, teary eyes. "You will always be a daughter to me."

"Thank you for everything," she cried as she hugged my once more. Even though I knew she was a woman, she still felt like that same child I'd brought to the opera house so many years ago. "I love you so much."

Erik was then behind her. A look of sadness was in his deep, blue eyes. Christine withdrew from hug, trying desperately to wipe her tears from her eyes. Erik, lovingly, helped her to her feet. "There's a pathway beneath this chair. I've marked the walls with arrows, but if you should get lost follow the breeze. The tunnels will lead to the street. I've unlocked the door at the end."

He helped Christine on to the gondola which was beside the other boat on the lake. He then turned back to me. Sadness was deeply evident in his eyes. "Thank you, Ann." He came and knelt in front of me. There were tears forming in his eyes now. "You were one of only a small few that showed kindness to me. I will never forget that." Then, to my surprise, he hugged me. Erik had never been one to show affection. Perhaps Christine was bringing out the more loving side of him as he was bringing out the more daring side in her.

When he withdrew from the hug, I lovingly wiped a tear from his cheek. I didn't need to tell him I loved him, and he didn't need to tell me. Erik was a man of pure intimacy. Love was in his every movement and gesture, and he knew from my actions how I loved him. He then stood up, respectfully nodded to Henry, and then hopped gracefully onto the gondola. Being too sad, neither looked back at me, but I watched them, with a heavy heart, slowly drift into the darkness of the cellars not knowing if I would ever see them again.

**So yeah that's it for Madame Giry for awhile. I thought it would be best she left the story with a bang while making Erik look like the badass that he is. Please review! Encouragement is appreciated as well as constructive criticism. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the long wait. I've been really busy. This chapter is kind of short, but I decided to make it really romantic and sweet. **

**Christine **

Erik was frighteningly quiet as we ascended onto the dark streets of Paris. The rising sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon bringing glorious hues or orange with it. While he was pulling me hastily through the dimly lit streets, I turned around to see the glorious silhouette of the Opera Populaire bathed in the early morning light. As I did so, I couldn't help but miss the place. It had been my home when I had no home. Madame Giry and Meg had been my family when I had no family. When I stared at the grand form of the opera house, I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever see either it or Madame Giry again.

"Where are we going?" I asked Erik. He was moving fast with his long graceful legs. I may have been a ballerina only weeks ago, but I was having trouble keeping up with him.

Clearly he was very anxious. With every step we took, the streets were filling with more light. Soon Paris would be bustling with people going to and fro. That would mean someone was bound to see us. The thought was unsettling to me as well.

"We need a place to stay so I can collect my thoughts and arrange for a place for us to reside more permanently," he answered.

"Where are we going to stay?" I inquired. The way he was acting made me feel like I was an annoying child asking too many questions. I know he didn't mean for me to feel that way. He was just nervous.

He nodded toward a lavish hotel at the end of the street. I stopped in my tracks, abruptly stopping him too. "You can't be serious? We're a block from the Opera Populaire. They'll surely look here for you!" I kept my voice low, but I made sure my tone made it clear I was not happy. He was smarter than this.

"They're expecting me to be halfway around the world by now. They'd never think to look a block away," he defended. He didn't seem to believe his own words. I knew this was merely desperation. This was a last resort.

"That's a really big chance to take, Erik," I responded.

He sighed. "I know. But we have no way to get out of the city yet, and no place to try and figure out how _to _get out of the city. If we stay on the streets they will surely find us."

I looked on the wall beside us, and grabbed the same poster I'd been seeing littering the walls from here to the Populaire. It was a drawing of Erik's disfigured face, and a similar one with him wearing the mask. They were everywhere. I held it up to him. "And how are they not going to know who you are?" I inquired, almost sarcastically.

He smiled. "They won't even know I'm there, my love."

Somehow Erik's terrible plan had worked to get us a room. It mostly just included me doing all the talking, and he had snuck in through a window. Luckily, no one had been in the front desk to talk to me. I had to sneak a key and put fake names in the sign in book. We had a first floor room. The hotel was quite exquisite. The floors were a dark oak color, and the ceiling ornately carved. Lavish, gold candelabras set in the four corners of the room. It vaguely reminded me of Erik's lair. There was also a tall four- post queen bed with a burgundy, satin canopy. Black, sheer curtains hung down on all sides of the bed. The sheets were also a deep burgundy and made of satin, and the duvet had a maroon base with black lace trimmed underneath it. It was a very romantic bed.

I couldn't help but grin at Erik when I noticed the bed. He didn't notice me though. He seemed lost in thought and nervous as he placed his bag on the ground and sat on the chaise with his face buried in his hands. My poor angel. He looked quite dashing in his black suit and his long velvet cape that was magnificently strewn out over the chaise.

Tentatively, I walked over to him and sat behind him. Then I began to rub his shoulders. He felt very tense. He lifted his head in surprise, but I could tell he enjoyed the massage, or perhaps it was just me having my hands on him. Slowly, he grabbed one of my hands and brought it to his lips for a kiss. The coolness of the porcelain of his mask sent a shudder through me. I carefully removed the mask with my other hand.

"You don't need this dreaded thing when you're with me," I reminded with a warm smile.

He said nothing, but grabbed my other wrist and held both my hands over his heart. I buried my face in his thin hair, and let my fingers play with the fine material of his shirt. I loved the feeling of him in my arms. "You know I love you, don't you?" he whispered after a moment.

I didn't respond, but instead positioned myself so I could see his face. He was staring at me with weary blue eyes. Smiling, I cupped his distorted cheek in my hand, and he savored the feeling by pushing his face into my loving grasp. Then I kissed him. He kept his mouth closed at first, surprised by my sudden show of affection. Then he opened his lips though and the kiss became passionate and needy.

His hands became laced in my hair as he undid the scarf I wore. I pushed him back on the chaise, not letting go of our passionate kiss. My hands found their way to his shoulders and then down the rest of his body. I wanted to feel all of him. I wanted to let my touch relieve his tension. I undid the button of his jacket and waist coat without breaking our kiss. Then my hands found their way inside his shirt and up his slender body. Immediately, I felt the tension in him ease. His arms wrapped around me, and in one swift move he turned me over so I was on the bottom.

He stared down on me with dark, lustful eyes still tinged with a faint look of apprehension. Whether the fear was from our current situation or from the uncertainty of being intimate with me, I did not know. Either way, I wanted him to forget his fears, if only for one night. I brought my fingers up to his lips. "Make love to me," I whispered. We had not touched each other in over a week romantically. To say I wanted him would be a vast understatement.

The apprehension melted from his eyes. Gracefully, he grabbed my hand and stood up from the chaise. He helped me slowly to my feet. Our eyes did not leave each other's. It felt like the first time I had actually seen him, when he led me down to his layer. Except now I would happily give myself to this seductive man. He held back a curtain from the bed and let me sit on the soft comforter. Still, our eyes never left each other. Fire was beginning to spread throughout my veins. Every nerve felt like it was heightened to the max. I knew this feeling better now. It was one that I always got a hint of when I was around Erik, but whenever he stared at me with those lustful blue eyes, my whole body went in to over drive. This wasn't just love, it was passion.

He knelt down and began removing me shoes. His eyes were still hooked into mine. I was vaguely aware of the thud my shoes made as they landed on the floor. Then his fingers started to trace their way up my legs. I could feel his electric touch through my stockings. He pushed my skirt up in a quick motion, causing me to lay down flat on the black lace of the comforter. His fingers found the top of my stockings and then slowly, he began to pull them down. He placed soft kisses down my leg on each new area of exposed skin sending desirous sensations through my body. Slowly and tantalizingly he did the same to the other leg. Who would have thought removing stockings could be so sensual?

Then he turned me over and began to hastily undo the buttons on my dress. When he was done, he pulled the back of the dress open to expose the top of my back. His fingers traced a line from the top of my scalp down my spine to the top of my corset. Again, a pleasurable shiver ran through my body. I couldn't help but wonder if he was testing me, trying to see how my body responded to his touch. He must have liked my answer because he then began to kiss my shoulder, and then he placed kisses all along my back. I then felt his hand on my lower back, on the corset.

"I hate these things," he murmured. He made quick and easy work of the complicated corset. When he was done, he helped me turn over on to my back. The top part of my body was now completely naked, but I felt no shame as he gazed lovingly down upon me. He then put one leg over my body so that he was straddling me. Then he bent over and kissed me lightly on the lips. Then he kept kissing. He kissed my chin, down my neck to my collar bone, and down to my chest. Before reaching my breasts, he looked up at me with wide and wanting blue eyes.

"You're so beautiful Christine," he said.

I sat up, not breaking eye contact with him, and started undoing the buttons of his vest. His whole body went tense again when I started working on his shirt. "Do you want the lights off again?" I asked.

Weakly, he smiled, and slipped his shirt over his head. "No, I want to look at you," he answered.

"Good because I want to look at you too," I told him. I ran my finger down from his jaw down his neck, in between his collar bone, and down his sternum. He took a deep breath and trembled from my touch. Our last time, I never really touched him that much. He had seemed more interested in pleasing me. Now I wanted to please him.

I traced my finger across a large scar underneath his ribcage. Then I placed a kiss on it. I then let my hands glide up his protruding ribs up to his neck. "You know. You're really going to have to put some weight on," I said with a smile before pulling him into a kiss. We fell back onto the pillows, with him on top. Then we lost ourselves in each other.

I awoke to Erik's eyes gazing down upon me. My arm was draped across his chest, and I had my head nestled comfortably in his shoulder. It was late in the day, and all the candles we lit from earlier were now fading into stumps of wax.

"You know we really should eat something," he suggested when he saw I was awake.

I scrunched up my nose and buried my face deeper into his side, holding him close to me. "No," I mumbled. I wasn't moving from this spot. This whole moment, everything about it, was just too perfect.

He laughed. "Weren't you the one just telling me to put some weight on?"

"Yea, but I don't wanna move," I groaned.

"Well don't move. I've got some food in my bag. I'll get it." He tried to get up, but I pulled him back down on the bed beside me.

"No sir, you're staying with me," I ordered.

"Christine," he exclaimed when he fell down on the bed beside me. I positioned myself on top of him so that my chin rested on his chin, and I could look him the eye. "We need to eat," he said.

I placed a kiss on his lips, and then continued to place tender kisses all the way down to the thin trail of hair above his groin. I could tell he was really enjoying it, but he stopped me. "You're insatiable," he laughed as he grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eye.

"You're just really good at this," I replied. He was _really _good.

"Um…thanks," he responded with a blush.

I tried to continue my seduction, but he shifted me to his side and then slipped out of bed before I even had time to protest. He noticed my scowl as he walked over to his bag. "You know you're really cute when you're pouty," he laughed as he pulled something small and wrapped up out of his bag. He came back to the bed and pulled the cover over both of us. I rested my head on his chest. "If we're going to continue our bedroom adventures though," he unwrapped the item to reveal half a loaf of bread accompanied with some butter, "I will need some sustenance."

As we were nibbling at the bread, I decided it was as good a time as any to ask what his plans for getting out of the city were. Earlier I hadn't wanted to bring up anything that might cause him more tension. "So, what's the plan?" I inquired as I smeared some butter on my piece of bread.

"We're going to have to obtain some means of travel and then sneak out of Paris," he said.

"How are we going to obtain a means of travel?"

"We're going to steal it," he replied simply. He may have been the one that insisted we eat, but he had hardly touched his bread since he got it out.

"Ah…and what are we going to do when we get out of the city?"

"We're going to get out of the country…"

"And then…?" He really wasn't getting the idea that I wanted details.

He sat up in the bed. "I've got enough money for us to buy a house to live in. Plus I'm not exactly lacking in skills. Perhaps I can become an architect again. Maybe I could start an architectural firm. We could make good money that way."

The next question that came to my mind, I didn't want to ask him, but it had been eating at me since I realized I might never see the Populaire again. "Do you think I'll ever sing again?" I asked.

His blue eyes lit up, and a warm smile met his lips. He trailed one of his long fingers from my chin to the base of my throat. "Christine, my love, I will die before I let your voice be caged."

**Sorry couldn't go in to too much detail. I didn't want it rated MA. :p Thanks for the reviews. I'll try to update at least once a week from now on. **


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